Ever since hearing DJ Haus’ “Thug Houz Anthem”, we’ve been eagerly awaiting the upcoming Unknown to the Unknown compilation Thug Houz Anthems Vol. 1 and today we got another taste of what’s to come. “Feel It” is a collaboration between UTTU boss DJ Haus and Matrixxman (of 5kinandbone5) and is exactly the pulsating, roughneck brand of garage that we’ve come to expect from each artist. While UTTU generally trends towards the garage realm, their recent output has shown a propensity for hardware-driven house music that has also really hit on a lot of levels for us. If Thug Houz Anthems Vol. 1 combines those two ethos, it’s going to be a special set of tracks.
As abrasive and iconoclastic as Matrixxman’s online persona comes off as, dude can churn out some incredibly populist music. Take last year’s (as 5kinandbone5) “Forest Nymphs” for example. The track is basically a lusher than lush take on classic Detroit tropes, demonstrating the softer side of the YG-associated Bay Area-residents. In his solo work, Matrixxman has repeatedly shown this side, but it’s often obfuscated behind a web of inter-referential graphics and web speak. His latest effort comes in the form of a remix of STRFKR’s “Golden Light”, a pleasant, although slightly vapid effort from the Portland band. Matrixxman begins the track by heaping on glob after glob of cheesy guitar licks giving it that “retro” vibe that so many producers strive for. Matrixxman is far more tactful than “so many producers” though and reins the rework in before it gets out of hand. The result is a tropical take on slow, disco-infused house. Stream the remix below and grab a download here.
The below quote in from David Foster Wallace and Mark Costello’s Signifying Rappers, a discussion on hip hop and race, as well as a thorough criticism of rapidly changing, turn of the century media forms. I felt it was probably more worthwhile than the brief commentary I was going to plaster here instead.
You may now be getting some hazy idea of the sorts of really quite scary possibilities with which the rap we like is replete. And, hazier, of how complicated this stuff of sampler-from-outside can be. What’s remained passing strange, for use, is the vague threat’s appeal. The unease and ambivalence with which the rare white at the window loves rap renders that love no less love. Whence the fear, though, is really no matter. For look at the world, at the masses we’re part of. At what you look at closest. The plain 80s data is that, whereas love, devotion, passion seem only to divide, it’s fear and strangeness that bind crowds, fill halls, unite Us, somehow, as audience, under the great tent.